The Six
by JustAnotherRandomInTheFandom
Summary: As their crime-fighting and teenage social life continue, the PPGs have finally gotten into the rhythm of things . . . when an unexpected beat turns the girls' lives upside-down. The return of the RRBs has never occurred to the PPGs in their dreams, and now they're back. But why? How? And what role do the PPGs play in the RRBs lives, and in saving them from their dark past?
1. Chapter 1

"I'm going to miss. I'm going to slip. I'm not going to get it in that net. I refuse to even try!" Bubbles whimpered as she landed with a _whump_ in the grass. Buttercup rolled her eyes and walked over to her big sister. Bubbles was squatting, her light blue eyes glaring up at her defiantly. Buttercup snorted and lifted her sister to her feet with one quick motion. Bubbles squealed as she was forced to stand.

"It's not my fault you're practically failing in physical education," Buttercup told her. "And my own sister too! How embarrassing!" She flashed her green eyes at her. "You said you wanted help passing the soccer course. Well here I am. Now shoot." After another glare at Bubbles, she took to the air.

She could hear Bubbles groaning. Buttercup smirked and looked down at her sister. _It isn't as if Bubbles can't do it,_ she thought to herself. _It's because she won't try._ Bubbles had all the necessary skills; good hand eye coordination, great stamina, and power. She just didn't seem very willing to shoot a spherical object into a mesh of string. Buttercup already knew they wouldn't get anywhere with soccer, but Bubbles was captain of the cheerleaders. Surely she could bribe some marks out of that.

Bubbles pulled her leg back, about to kick - Buttercup looked down eagerly, anticipating some sort of progress - when Bubbles slipped on her other foot and fell back down on the grass. Buttercup sighed and landed back on the ground. She picked up the soccer ball and spun it on her index finger.

"You'll do fine," Buttercup muttered.

"Really?" Bubbles asked. Her look was one of skepticism. "I didn't get a single goal."

Buttercup shrugged. "I'm sure you can pass. A high mark is kind of unlikely though. The coach knows your extracurriculars. Perhaps he'll count them in. You're strong, but not very willing to play. Just try your best tomorrow, and you'll come off with a decent enough mark."

Bubbles gaped at her younger sibling. "I'm not willing? What do you mean?"

Buttercup shrugged again. "I don't know, you just don't seem very enthusiastic."

Bubbles began to redden. Her blue eyes turned to ice. "I am too! Just because I don't like sports as much as you do doesn't mean I don't care!" With one blow, she knocked the soccer ball out of Buttercup's hands. She gave it a furious kick with her toe. The ball landed square in the middle of the net.

Buttercup smiled. "There you go," she grinned. "But your toe must hurt."

Bubbles looked at Buttercup. "I did it," she whispered. Suddenly she began to squeal and laugh and giggle and jump up and down. "I did it, I did it, I really really did it!" She was so happy, Buttercup couldn't help but to laugh along.

Suddenly, a clap rang through the Powerpuffs' backyard. It had been quiet, but certain. Buttercup looked up immediately, the laughter gone from her system.

"Shh," she whispered in a deadly tone to her sister.

Bubbles stopped too. She looked around, confused. "What is it?" she asked.

"Shh," Buttercup whispered again.

She slowly turned on her heels, a full 180 degrees. Another clap. Buttercup's eyes flashed up. Her eyes rested on a pair of young teen boys sitting on the grass of their backyard, looking to be around the same age as themselves. They both wore dark coloured hoodies, but they were of different colours; one was blue, while the other was green. The one in the green had his hood over his face, while the one in blue kept his hood down, showing off his rich blonde mane, almost identical to Bubbles' golden pigtails, but his hair looked . . . dirtier. More mussed, scruffy, and shorter. It was he who had been clapping.

Buttercup walked over to them, followed closely at her heels by Bubbles, whose eyes had dyed down and were now again the colour of innocent sky blue. Buttercup confronted the blue boy, head held high and firm.

"And what, exactly, do you think you're doing on our property?" she asked him.

The boy looked up at her innocently, and for a moment, he looked just like Bubbles. "You're his," he said lightly, jabbing his thumb towards the boy in the green. She saw the green boy's lip curl into a dangerous smile.

"I'm not anybody's, and really, I don't care what you're taking about," Buttercup said. "Just get off our property." Something about these boys made Buttercup's blood run cold.

A laugh erupted in the air, and in a moment she saw that it had escaped from the green boy's lips. The boy in green walked over and took Buttercup by her arm, fast as lightning.

"Hey!" she yelled. He tightened his grip. She saw the other boy go and take Bubbles the same way, and clamp his large hand over her mouth. Buttercup cursed. He'd cut off Bubbles' sonic scream. Buttercup tried biting her way out of his grasp, but the boy clicked his tongue, "_tsk tsk tsk._"

A moment later there was a hand covering her mouth too. She ferociously kicked back, hoping to hurt him in his soft spot, but he wasn't there. Dumbfounded, she looked at Bubbles. Her captor was floating behind her. _Floating_. Buttercup began to tremble as realization dawned on her. These guys could float. They knew Bubble's powers. They had them in a death grip. Fury filled her bright green eyes. The Rowdyruff Boys.


	2. Chapter 2

Buttercup watched as the boy in blue - by the name of Boomer, she recalled - pinched Bubbles somewhere above her collarbone - a pressure point. Bubbles gasped and collapsed on the grass, unconscious. Boomer cautiously pulled out a needle from his hoodie pocket and began injecting a fluid - clear and colourless, like water - into Bubbles' arm. Buttercup struggled against Butch's grasp, trying to do anything to stop the blue Rowdyruff, but Butch had her firmly.

"What is that?" Buttercup screamed as she continually struggled against Butch.

Butch smirked. "That's for me to know and for you to figure out," he replied.

Buttercup screamed louder and struggled all the more.

After finishing up with Bubbles, Boomer walked towards a flailing Buttercup with a new needle in hand, filled with the same clear substance. Butch forced her right arm forward, and before she knew it, Boomer had the needle in her arm too, slowly injecting the same fluid.

Buttercup instantly felt all the energy drain from her body. Her limbs felt weak and sore, her head was swimming, and her body felt a hundred pounds heavier. Bright spots danced before her eyes, and everything looked disoriented or deformed. She felt herself swaying - back and forth, back and forth. Suddenly, through her blurry vision, she saw the grass rush up to meet her.

Butch seemed to know what would happen to her. Unlike Boomer, he caught her an instant before she hit the ground. He turned her around and cradled her in his arms, like a baby. Buttercup barely noticed; she was focusing all the energy she had left on staying conscious.

Boomer lifted Bubbles the same way as Butch. Soon they were in the air.

The wind helped Buttercup recover - she'd always loved the feel of it on her skin. Soon, her vision was back to normal, and her mind was clear enough to think. In a matter of minutes, the dizzy feeling had disappeared completely, and Buttercup could take in her surroundings. But she was disappointed to find out that every physical movement she made drained her energy, and cause the dizziness to come back. Buttercup was reluctant to, but she stayed still.

Butch soon settled into a steady rhythm of flight; he gently bounced up and down in the air. Buttercup assumed that meant that they were well on their path. Suddenly, the blue Rowdyruff flew in towards them.

"Brick said to knock her out," Boomer said indignantly. "It was an order."

Butch rolled his eyes. "Brick and his stupid orders. I don't give a dang. She'll be much more entertaining awake, which is more than what can be said about your Blondie Puff there."

Buttercup saw Boomer's eye twitch in anger, but he kept silent.

_Figures_, she thought. If Bubbles had been in the same situation, she would've kept quiet too, and the two were counterparts; shared alike traits but made to oppose each other. The same went for Butch and herself. Then she realized that her siblings would then logically regard her as being similar to this jerk-face. She groaned inwardly but stayed quiet.

"Feeling lightheaded yet?" Butch asked her once Boomer had flown away. He wore a smug smirk on his face.

Buttercup ground her teeth; he knew the answer, and he knew the reason why. His entire question was mocking her helpless state. She wanted to rip that face out, but she couldn't muster the strength to even move. Instead, she glared back.

Butch looked at her eyes and raised his eyebrows. Then he laughed, a mischievous glint in his dark green eyes.

Buttercup turned red. Looking at her, Butch burst out in another fit of giggles.

"I told my brothers that conscious girls are _much_ more fun than unconscious ones! They never listen!" He chuckled.

Buttercup could feel anger pulsing through her veins, threatening to explode her inside out with fury. Strength powered by white-hot rage surged through her. With a loud grunt, she reached up and delivered her hardest punch - that she could deliver in her state, that is - toward her counterpart's jaw. There was a loud smack, indicating a collision of skin and skin. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that even Boomer had looked up to see what had happened.

Butch stopped in the air. His head was turned to the side from the impact, his jet black hair covering half his face.

"Told you," she heard Boomer mutter quietly.

Then Butch began laughing, in that same position. A terrible and maniacal laugh. Boomer stared. Buttercup looked up at her counterpart, dumbfounded.

Butch slowly turned his head back towards her. Buttercup looked at the place where she thought she'd punched him; there was not a single scratch on Butch's pale face. He smiled evilly.

"Poor Buttercup," he moaned with a false sympathetic tone. "Was that your hardest punch, little Powerpuff?"

He flicked her forehead. She cringed, but not at the pain, although it had hurt quite a bit. She had cringed because it had hurt far more than it should have. The powers she and her sisters had attained at birth kept them around a hundred times more immune to pain than the average human. Suddenly, pain surged through her hand - the one she'd punched with; that was also extremely odd. Then she thought back to the needle shot. The fluid.

"That shot . . ." Buttercup mumbled to herself. The anger was gone now, replaced by a wave of terror that flushed itself throughout her body.

She looked up at Butch, his dark green eyes meeting her own. The look in his eyes confirmed her suspicions before he said another word.

Butch grinned. "You've got it now, little B. Took you long enough."

Buttercup's heart dropped as soon as he said it.

He leaned in to her ear. She felt her entire body go numb; she had never been so afraid in her life - not afraid of him, but afraid of what he would tell her; what she would hear. He inched closer, and said in a whisper that was barely audible, "that shot, little Powerpuff, was an antidote for Chemical X."


	3. Chapter 3

**9:00 AM: First bell rings for start of homeroom at Pokey Oaks High**

Blossom's day had originally gotten off to a rough start, even before . . . well, we'll get to that later.

The vice-president wanted to introduce an idea for a whole new type of festival, which, to Blossom's understanding, included movies, pyjamas, and a barbecue. She'd told him to write up a report on the festival schedules, costs, plans, and advertisement ideas. That would buy her at least three days.

The secretary had finally cracked and demanded that Blossom make plans with her to update the school council website. Blossom scheduled an appointment on Saturday morning, meaning she would be late to her group project meeting.

Mr. Keane wanted Blossom to take up the role of set manager in the upcoming school production. Refusal would lower her reputation, and so she accepted. The play rehearsals would eat away Monday and Thursday afternoons; she would have to reschedule her violin and english lessons for the billionth time.

Then with the school principal asking Blossom to become head ambassador, the music teacher signing up an involuntary Blossom to play violin for the school's Open House Night, and the kitchen cook practically begging her to be the Kitchen helper again for the next week, it didn't seem like Blossom would be getting a break in her life anytime soon.

Then she had to worry about Buttercup's chemistry exam and Bubbles' gym test. Yes, her life was a breeze, said with utmost sarcasm.

What a brutal way to start a Monday morning.

So this was definitely NOT a great day to . . . as mentioned earlier, this will come up later . . .

First and second periods, she spent reading ahead on the lesson material, as she was already done the projects her classmates were working on. Morning break was spent making arrangements with the principal to become the head of the student ambassadors. Then it was straight to third period, where Blossom flawlessly executed her weeks-practiced presentation on Newton's Laws of Motion. Then it was lunchtime.

Buttercup and Bubbles both had late lunches today. Blossom was scheduled to have a meeting with the liaison of Student Council, to discuss the upcoming parent council meeting plans. That was, until, the liaison rudely texted her five minutes before their meeting time and cancelled due to a surprise dentist appointment. Blossom was now unexpectedly free the whole lunch period. She considered going to the music room to practice for Open House Night, but turned right back around when she saw a senior class taking their lessons.

So she wandered outside after finishing her cafeteria-bought lunch. It was a cloudy day, and a little foggy as well. She had a book with her, and, finding a nice shady spot, sat down to read.

She wasn't very far into the book when she sensed she was being watched. This was not uncommon. She was a single, super-smart, super-talented, nice hot red-haired girl (not to brag, of course), and she was also president of the Student Council, (now) Head of the Student Ambassadors, (potentially) school play set manager, and held very important positions in many other extracurricular activities around the school.

But this was different. It didn't feel anything like the adoring, or respectful, or jealous looks she was used to getting. It felt rather . . . creepy. She looked up from her book and turned her head.

She found the culprit right away. A tall, lean guy, with a red hood over a black and red snapback hat that also covered the sides of his face. She could see his pale chin and cheeks, but his hat was dipped too low for his eyes to be visible. She could see strands of red hair peeking out from behind his hood. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing slightly-muscled, pale arms. They connected to his hands, one of which was in his hoodie pocket, the other one stuck inside the pocket of his pitch-black jeans.

Blossom had never seen the guy around before. She knew the school received many new students, as Pokey Oaks High was known for its excellent education program. But as an ambassador and Student Body Representative, she felt disappointed with herself for not being familiar with at least the presence of a new student.

She stood up and dusted herself off. This would be a good time to become familiar with the new kid; Blossom prided herself on being personally close with almost every single student at Pokey Oaks, even if she was only a sophomore.

But as she got closer, Blossom realized this guy had a different vibe to himself. He didn't seem nervous to be a new kid, or even uncomfortable. In fact, he looked totally chill, sitting on the grass casually by himself, like it was something that any student at the school did to get some alone time. Then there was the uncomfortable feeling that he had been watching her with rather a hostile look. But Blossom shook off the feeling. Because really, how dangerous could a normal student be? And she was one of the most famous superheroes in the world. That's right, the Powerpuffs had gone viral outside of Townsville now, too.

_Why had she been so stupid?_

_Why had she been so slow to read the signs?_

_Why had she been so proud as to let it cloud her judgement?_

Blossom sat in front of the red-hoodie guy.

"What's your name?" She asked politely. The boy didn't reply.

"Are you new here?" The boy only lowered his head.

Blossom frowned and tried looking at the rest of his face. The boy turned away from her.

"Help . . . me . . . find the . . ." he grunted out. His voice was gruff and muffled.

Blossom smiled. "What do you need?"

"The . . . the . . ." His tone died down.

Blossom tilted her head and inched her face closer to him. "The . . . ?"

Before she knew it, both her arms were pinned behind her back, and a hand was covering her mouth. She tensed her legs and kicked wildly.

She looked around desperately. There was no one outside. Everyone was going back into the school. How had she missed the bell?

She tried biting at the hand, but it was no use; it was clamped too tightly around her lips. Then a chilling voice whispered like death in her ear: "Don't you move, Blossom Utonium." A second later, an intense pain shot up her right arm. She struggled against the hand pinning her down, but its grip on her was too firm.

Suddenly, she felt all the energy drain from her body. Her head pounded, and her vision began to blur. She felt herself being picked up, and became nauseous just by the motion of it. She could hear herself whimpering. She steadied her vision just long enough to see the face of the person carrying her. It was that boy . . . _oh God, she was going to puke . . . but who . . . ? _

A pair of glowing red eyes stared at her from under the cap. Red . . . glowing . . . that wasn't natural. There were only a few beings in the world who could have eyes like that; Blossom only knew two. The first was herself, the red eyes a result of the Chemical X in her blood. The second was also a result of Chemical X, though their uses for it were very different.

While Blossom and her sisters used their powers to rid evil in the city of Townsville, the latter did exactly the opposite. He and his brothers had been one of the toughest villains they'd ever faced, and a few of the only ones whose physical capabilities could match their own.

But they'd been destroyed, once again, many years ago when they were still grade-schoolers. Blossom and her sisters had SEEN them disappear, and had never caught a whiff of them ever again!

Until now.

Blossom stared at those eyes, dark and red, more menacing than blood.

"Bri . . . Bri . . . Bri . ."

The Rowdyruff let his hood fall, his lush red hair spreading out from under his cap. It was much shorter than the last time she'd seen him, but it still had a shimmer to it, like hers.

He leaned into her ear, sending shivers up her back.

"The best thing to do now," Brick whispered in a deadly tone, "would be to stay still . . ." Then he added, "not that you have a choice anyway."

Blossom stared at him, trying to comprehend what her red counterpart had just said. Then realization dawned on her; she tried moving her arm. It would not respond. A wave of horror flushed through her as she realized Brick was speaking the truth; she was paralyzed.

Brick took her into a cradling position and set off to the skies. The height made Blossom dizzy in her already weakened state. She lowered her head and focused on not vomiting all over Townsville.

She'd never been particularly fond of heights; when she and her sisters had been born, she'd been the last one to try taking to the air. She had suggested a ground team but Buttercup would hear none of it. The matter was settled once and for all after The Professor took them to see 'Superman, The Movie'; they would be an aerial team.

The years and experience had made her somewhat numb to her initial fear, but now, flying at approximately 100 mph at a dizzying height with no control over her body, and on top of that the fact that her life depended on one of her worst enemies in history, was enough to make her . . . well, feel sicker than she ever had before.

The flight felt like days, but when Brick finally began to descend, Blossom saw that the sun wasn't even going down yet; it was still mid-day.

He landed in a large field of grass, and dropped Blossom in front of him. The coolness of the earth helped her nausea, but her stomach still lurched and groaned. She closed her eyes and let the grass dance over her face.

Brick let her stay like that for a bit while he polished a mean-looking Swiss Army Knife. He then picked her up and took her into a small cottage. There, he tied her to the post of a nearby bed, then sat on the bed himself. He took up a small remote and flicked on the television.

The last thing she heard before losing consciousness was the all-too-familiar opening music to an old show of 'Fairly Odd Parents.'


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello. This is a very short chapter, but longer chapters are to come, I promise :)** **This chapter may also be a little confusing, as there is need for POV change throughout the chapter. However, please don't let this stop you from reading and enjoying the story! ^.^** **I do not own the Powerpuff Girls.**

It was late afternoon when Blossom woke up. Brick was beside her, his back resting on the side of his mattress. He was still staring at the TV screen, still watching that show.

When Blossom tried calling out to him, her throat began to burn. She let out what sounded like a low gurgle. Brick glanced in her direction. He frowned, flicked the television off, and looked at her with what looked like mild curiosity.

Blossom felt as though there was a burning-hot cast around her whole throat. She wanted to cry out, but every time she tried, the non-existent cast would seemingly get hotter and tighter. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe!

Suddenly, a burst of pain spread through her left arm. She screamed as loud as she could; she could feel her world turning black, with white and yellow spots dancing before her eyes . . . And she was back in Brick's bedroom. His red eyes stared at her. She gasped and pulled her head back, hitting the bedpost. She groaned and tried to bring up a hand to massage it, when she realized she was still tied up. She whisked her head around at Brick, who was quietly wrapping - what was that, a syringe? - in a piece of cloth.

Blossom was dumbfounded - she could not seem to grasp this casual behaviour Brick was portraying in these exceedingly abnormal circumstances. And as the silence stretched on longer and longer, Blossom grew angrier and angrier.

"Tell me what happened," Blossom demanded suddenly.

Brick uncaringly turned away from her.

"Hey!" Blossom yelled. "Why am I here?" Brick wordlessly walked out of the room, then came back with a new needle. It held a colourless liquid.

"You'll figure out soon enough, when your sisters get here." Blossom's stomach lurched. Her sisters?

"Now, I'm going to give you a piece of advice; don't try to fight it. If you do, it'll hurt more." Then he plunged the needle into her arm. Blossom screamed as pain surged through her veins and throughout her entire body. For each inch the plunger moved down the syringe, Blossom's pain seemed to increase tenfold. When it was over, Blossom felt tired and weak. She could barely keep her eyes open; she would have fallen over if it hadn't been for her bonds.

Blossom felt Brick untie her and lift her off the ground. She felt as though she would lose consciousness - again - any minute. Every step Brick took came as a shock throughout Blossom's entire body, making her head throb with pain. Her ears magnified every noise, making them ring. Finally, she felt herself being lowered. The pain subsided a little, and her body was grateful for the ground with which to gain its bearings. Blossom's world was spinning, turning, everything going in and out of proportion . . . Her stomach lurched with every movement she made. Her eyes couldn't seem to focus. Everything was blurry . . . she could only see faint outlines . . . where was she . . . ?

Her stomach gurgled and churned . . . hot fluids were rising up from her insides . . . no energy to keep it down . . .

Brick stared as Blossom threw up on his floor.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the huge break . wow, it's been like half a year? Cool, so this is the next chapter, hope you guys like XD reviews and comments are always appreciated :) and the story is going to get a little weird after this, just because the back stories of both parties will start to become really important :3 ANYWAY don't worry about that for now, and enjoy the chapter!**

**I do not own the Powerpuff girls :P**

**BOOMER'S POV:**

"How am I supposed to know? Look, it's not my fault that YOUR Puff threw up all over YOUR bedroom floor." Butch yelled.

"Well with your carelessness, you dumb jerk, you could very well have made some measuring error, or heated it to the wrong temperature! I told you, Butch, one mistake could be fatal!" Brick yelled back just as loudly.

"Well, if it was that important, why didn't you just do it yourself?"

Brick's red eyes burned in anger. "Right. Fine. My fault for trusting two idiots."

Boomer, stuck between his two hopeless older brothers, rolled his eyes. "Knock it off already, you two, and just get it cleaned up. The smell is starting to spread." The blue Rowdyruff waved a hand in front of his face and crinkled his nose.

Brick and Butch both turned simultaneously to their youngest brother, both Rowdyruffs' eyes filled with red and green fury.

"Shut up!" they both yelled, then went back to their argument.

Boomer sighed in exasperation and flew towards the couch, where the blue and green Powerpuffs had been laid down. The pink one had been tossed into a corner of the room by a furious and disgusted Brick. She lay limp on the floor, so carelessly put aside that her mouth was still crusted with sick. Stomach churning at the sight, Boomer took a tissue and crudely wiped Blossom's mouth clean. He then looked around the room. Brick and Butch were still arguing, and all three Powerpuffs had seemingly gone limp. Bubbles was still knocked out (had he really pinched her THAT hard?), Blossom was limply sprawled on the floor, and Buttercup seemed to have lost all will to live - she stared at the ceiling, expressionless. Boomer sat on the floor, leaning against the couch and head on his knees.

Suddenly, a rough and miserable - but undoubtedly female - voice pierced the silence.

"Did Blossom get that shot too? Antidote X?"

"Probably," the blue Rowdyruff replied without looking up.

"Then does she know?"

"Know what?"

Buttercup looked down at him with frightened green eyes. "That we don't have out powers anymore." she whispered.

Boomer looked at her. He tried his best to make his gaze icy-cold. "How should I know?" He turned away and turned his attention to a piece of lint on his hoodie.

But apparently Buttercup was just as bad at picking up hints as Butch, because she just kept on talking. "Could -" she said, her voice breaking, "can I go and tell her? And Bubbles too when she wakes up?"

Boomer rolled his eyes. "No point. What will they do about it when they know, anyway?"

"But they deserve to know. You know how important these powers were, you have them yourself."

"Your sisters aren't even conscious."

Buttercup looked at Bubbles, who was beginning to cringe from the daylight streaming in from a nearby window.

"They're waking up."

Boomer groaned in frustration. If the green Powerpuff was anything like Butch, she would never stop nagging him until she had her way. "I'll ask Brick," he grumbled, and stood up.

**BRICK'S POV:**

"Okay, you know what, Brick? This entire thing was your stupid idea, so don't try to go on blaming me for all this. You made the recipe, you made the plan, you made this entire thing. Don't go trying to pin all your failures on me!" Butch yelled.

Brick ground his teeth. Butch was right, and the red Rowdyruff knew it. But that didn't mean he would back down. "Well -"

"HEY!" a voice screamed at the top of his lungs. Butch and a glad Brick turned around to face their little brother Boomer again.

"What is it, you little twerp?" Butch sneered.

Boomer pursed his lips, but made no retort to his green brother. Instead, he turned to Brick. "The green Powerpuff wants to talk to her sisters."

"Why?" Brick asked, raising one eyebrow.

"I don't know. She said she wants to tell her sisters about losing their powers . . . or something like that."

"What? How does Buttercup know . . ." Brick began. Then he stopped. He looked at Butch.

"You told her?"

Butch suddenly took an inexplicable interest to the walls. "Well . . ."

"You told her?!" Brick yelled. He grabbed his green brother by the collar of his hoodie. "I told you not to! How could you even have told her? I ordered you to knock her out!"

At the corner of the room, Boomer quietly muttered, "I told you."

Butch swatted Brick's hands away. "Aw, get off it. You were going to tell them anyhow. What harm could it possibly do?"

"It's called the element of surprise, idiot!" Brick snarled. "Dang you, Butch!"

"What surprise?" Butch suddenly asked, frowning.

Oops.

"Nothing." Brick muttered, turning away.

"Hey!" Butch yelled, grabbing Brick's hood. "What surprise?"

"The surprise of finding out they suddenly lost their powers, okay?" Brick shouted.

Suspicion clouded Butch's emerald-green eyes.

Brick turned to Boomer. "Fine, let Buttercup tell them. It's true that they were going to figure it out eventually, anyway," he added, glancing at Butch.

Boomer nodded and slipped out of the room. Brick followed without a second glance behind.

**BUTTERCUP'S POV:**

She stared up at the ceiling, waiting for Boomer to return. To be honest, she wasn't really sure what she could do if Boomer said she couldn't see her sisters. After all, she'd lost her powers.

She looked down at her hand, and flexed it - once, twice. She couldn't feel any noticeable difference, but for some reason she felt her skin was more vulnerable, her bones more prone to damage. It was an inexplicable sensation, and she wanted nothing to do with it.

She then turned her attention to the place where Butch had inserted the needle. What an odd, cruel thing! Everything she'd built her life on so far had evaporated in a matter of minutes because of a simple needle injection. She clutched her arm where she guessed the needle had entered. It hurt.

She suddenly heard thundering footsteps on the wooden floor and looked up to see Boomer, followed by Brick. Butch followed further behind. Soon the three brothers had lined themselves up in a row, with Brick in the middle flanked by the other two Rowdyruffs.

"You have two minutes to talk to each of your sisters," Brick said calmly. "After that, each of you will be taken into individual custody."

"You said you could wake your sisters up. Go ahead." Boomer added.

Butch stepped forward and swiftly cut the ropes that had been leashing her to the couch. Buttercup stood and made her way to Blossom first. She helped her red-haired sister sit up against the wall and tidied her long messy hair.

"Blossom," Buttercup said. Blossom slowly opened her eyes and faced her.

"Where are we?" Blossom asked in a meek voice. Her face was pale from being sick.

"I . . . I don't know. Look, Blossom, we only have a couple of minutes together, so I need to tell you this fast." She glanced at Brick, who was staring at his watch.

She leaned in towards Blossom's ear. "We lost our powers. I don't know how, but we did. I . . . I can confirm it because I punched Butch in the jaw, after the injection. And he wasn't hurt at all. Not a scratch. It was as if only a human had hit him."

Buttercup looked up and whispered, "he said it was Antidote X."

"One minute," Brick announced.

Buttercup quickened her speaking pace. "I . . . I don't know what to do, Blossom. It's terrifying. I don't have a clue where we are, or how they managed to take our powers like this." Despite herself, Buttercup sniffed. "I . . . I need help, Blossom. Please wake up. We need each other right now." She planted a light kiss on her sister's forehead and began to stand up, when Blossom muttered in a barely audible voice, "wake her up."

Buttercup looked at her, confused. She knelt down again. "What?" she asked.

"Wake up Bubbles. Right now. And listen closely to what I have to say." Blossom groaned, eyes closed.

Buttercup knew that tone. It was the I-have-something-up-my-sleeve tone. It was also the we-are-in-a-very-dangerous-situation-so-be-inconspicuous-about-it tone. Buttercup leaned down, smoothed her sister's hair, and stood up. She needed to wake up Bubbles immediately, without getting under the radar of suspicion from the Rowdyruffs.

She meekly walked over to her blond-haired sister, and gently shook her awake. The blue Powerpuff groaned and rubbed her head.

"Where are we?" she asked in her high-pitched, but slightly dampened voice.

"I don't know, Bubbles. What I do know though, is that we don't have our powers anymore."

Bubbles then opened her eyes wide. "What did you say?" she whispered in a voice of sheer terror.

"We don't have our powers anymore."

Buttercup could see tears beginning to form in Bubbles' eyes. "How?" she whispered back.

"They injected something in us. With a needle. Right after Boomer knocked you out."

"Are you sure?"

"One minute left, Powerpuff." Brick announced again.

"While they were taking us here, I tried to punch Butch in the jaw. It had no impact on him whatsoever, just like a human punch would."

Bubbles paled. Her hands were beginning to shake. Buttercup hoped that what Blossom had thought up of was good.

"Alright," Buttercup said, standing up. "I told them."

"Fine," Brick said. "Butch, take the green. Boomer, take the blue. I'll take -"

"It's not." Blossom said in a deadly tone from a corner of the room. All eyes turned on her. Buttercup frowned. _What?_

Apparently the Rowdyruffs had been thinking the same thing, because all three of them simultaneously said, "what?"

The red Rowdyruff flew (grr!) over to Blossom and knelt beside her. He chuckled for a while, then asked, "what was that, Powerpuff?"

Blossom stared at him, her red eyes burning with anger. "It's not," she repeated. Though her expression was one to be feared, it was obvious that talking so loudly in her current state was draining her of the little energy she had.

But Brick paid no attention to this, and was in fact beginning to get impatient. "It's not what?" he demanded.

"It's not Antidote X."


End file.
